


It's the Great Pumpkin, Emma Swan

by anupturnedboat



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Family Issues, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Possibly Unrequited Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 19:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anupturnedboat/pseuds/anupturnedboat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone tells me you are a fake, but I believe in you. P.S.: If you really are a fake, don't tell me. I don't want to know. </p><p>True Love is the Great Pumpkin, but Emma Swan knows there is no such thing. A kid, a pirate, and a couple of drunks just might change her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the return from Neverland, as everyone tries to get back to normal. Oh, and it's Halloween, just because.

Emma could feel the old bones holding the cottage together creaking and moaning as a sea storm gathered and launched itself towards shore.

She pulled the toile curtains Mary Margaret had sewn herself – a housewarming gift, back and briefly wondered how a certain pirate ship, moored just past the town line was faring.

She shook the thought away, letting the curtains drop back into place.  He would be fine. He always was.

She surveyed her somewhat barren surroundings. She had bought the forgotten seaside cottage for a shockingly low price just over a month ago. She had even had enough in her meager savings for a suitable down payment. It was her good fortune that home values in Storybrooke must have been stuck in time just like everything else.

She hadn’t had much time, or money, to furnish the place yet, but she was working towards cozy one paycheck at a time. She knew her parents were disappointed by her decision to move out so soon, but it was nice having a place of her own. Living with them in the loft was just too overwhelming, especially after all that time cooped up on the Jolly Roger.

She was glad that they had each other, but the whole “true love” thing was a lot to stomach day in and day out. She had lived in the real world long enough to know that true love wasn’t exactly realistic. She was just keeping it real by recognizing that odds were it wasn’t in the cards for her. Seriously did true love even exist anywhere outside of enchanted forests and castles with moats?

Despite her new homes rundown condition, she was finally feeling as though she could breathe again, and the sounds of the sea were surprisingly calming. She collapsed onto her second hand couch and thought that the only thing missing was Henry.  She got him every weekend, but those two days always flew by so fast, and then she was reluctantly dropping him back off at Regina’s.

Letting him go always left her a little breathless, what had happened in Neverland never far from her mind.

She shivered in the dark. The wind had really picked up, and she could feel it pushing through the window sills and creeping up through the floorboards.  She pulled a blanket around her and threw another log on the fire.

There was half a bottle of Merlot on the kitchen counter, she grabbed a juice glass out of the cupboard and filled it.

Tomorrow, she would pick Henry up after school.  He wanted to carve a pumpkin, which sounded messy, but maybe fun. It would be the first time for both of them.  According to Henry, Halloween was a foreign concept here in Storybrooke.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Henry had chosen a pumpkin so big he could barely lift it, or see over the top as he made his way to the front door.

Emma’s cheeks actually hurt from laughing. It was a good feeling, and she stopped for a moment savoring it. Henry finally made it inside, and gingerly deposited the pumpkin on the hearth.

She had chosen a pumpkin smaller than Henry's, but nicely shaped with a twisty stem. She set hers next to his admiring their choices.

“I printed out a list of all the things we need,” Henry said enthusiastically, producing a folded up paper from his back pocket.

“Whoa hold your horses, food first,” Emma said. Henry looked at his pumpkin longingly but followed her to the door.

“Pizza?” he asked hopefully as she backed out of the driveway.

“Sure kid, anything you want.”

“Yes!” he fist pumped. “Mom makes me eat way too many vegetables.”

Emma kept her eyes on the road. Regina was so fucking insidious, feeding her kid healthy stuff like vegetables so Emma would feel like the shitty parent, plying him with greasy fast food.

She pulled into the pizza place lost in thought. Henry was out of the car like a shot. “Killian!” she heard him shout enthusiastically.

Her stomach did that elevator drop thing. It was so irritating. She pretended to be rifling through her purse, hoping the pirate would keep going.

Ever since they had come back from Neverland, things had been awkward between them.

It was her own fault. She hadn’t meant to kiss him, but then they had found Henry, and she had been so relieved and desperately grateful, and it had just – happened. Hook had stood there barely breathing, eyes narrowed suspiciously. He hadn’t even kissed her back. So she had cut off whatever obnoxious thing he was no doubt about to say by jabbing a finger at his chest and growling “never speak of this again” before storming off.

He had surprised her by not being a complete ass and keeping his mouth shut about it. Or, he was waiting to use it against her at a more opportune time. That was probably more likely. She glared at him as he bent down towards Henry hoping he’d take the hint.

“We’re carving pumpkins,” she heard Henry tell him.

“It is that time of year is it?” Killian replied sounding amused, “when I was a boy we carved turnips, but pumpkins will do quite well.”

Emma threw her shoulders back and strode towards her son who was looking up at the pirate as though he were some goddamn super hero. It was - confusing. It would have been so much easier if he had just left.

It unnerved her that he had stayed. Had settled just past the town line, where presumably no one could attempt to kill him. She distractedly wondered how he was avoiding being spotted by people living in the real world outside of Storybrooke, but every time she saw him her brain just stopped working. All she could do was scowl and then say something stupid like “stay out of trouble” in her sheriff voice.

“Swan,” he said nodding in her direction, stepping back from Henry.

“You want to help us?” Henry asked, not letting him get away so easily.

“Henry!” Emma admonished, sounding shriller than she would have liked. The idea of Killian coming back to her place, eating pizza with her kid and carving pumpkins was so far on the other side of the moon, she couldn’t even contemplate what that would be like.

“I am sure the Captain has other things to do tonight,” she reasoned, her steely glare aimed at Killian, warning him that to keep his distance.

“Actually, my night is completely free,” he drawled, baiting her.

Emma felt an angry red flush spread up her neck. He knew she was not going to invite him to come over. He was forcing her to look like a rude tool in front of her kid. What an asshole. She shook her head and glared at him.

“However, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your mother,” Killian said affably, holding her gaze just a little longer than was necessary.

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Henry exclaimed, completely spazzing out.

“Maybe next time lad,” he said his tone kind. It surprised Emma, but she pushed the thought away, he was such a jerk. “You and your mother have a lot of lost time to catch up on. You don’t need a dashing pirate distracting you.”

“You don’t know what you are missing out on,” Henry said grinning. “But you will be at the Halloween party right?”

“We’ll see lad.”

Killian bowed deeply and said good night. Emma continued to glare at him but couldn’t help feeling shitty. He was so confusing, a complete annoyance most of the time, but also kind, especially when it came to Henry. They watched as he made his way down the street, and then Emma finally said “what Halloween party?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Here’s the list,” Mary Margaret said handing Emma a slip of paper.  “Henry is so excited.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Emma replied sarcastically, taking the paper and tucking it into her back pocket.  Henry had gotten really preoccupied with the idea that he had been denied Halloween his entire life and was determined that this year Storybrooke was going to have the best Halloween ever. How he had talked everyone into holding a party at the school, she’d never know.

“Are you sure you have to work?” Mary Margaret asked. “Everyone will be at the school, and it would make Henry so happy to have his whole family there.”

There was a niggling worry in the back of Emma’s mind that Henry was way too invested in this Halloween party, in making things “normal”. Storybrooke wasn’t ever going to be _normal._ It was just a party though, and maybe she was just looking to be worried about _something._ Emma sighed. “I’m the sheriff, and until we get a few more deputies on board I can’t just take the night off.”

She was about to ask Mary  Margaret if Henry had mentioned Neverland recently, but Henry came bounding down the stairs, and grabbed his backpack off the couch. “Let’s get going, we have a lot to do,” he hustled, nearly knocking Emma over.

Mary Margaret shrugged her shoulders, a mystified expression on her face.

“Costumes!” Henry hollered before pulling the door shut. “Don’t forget you and David need to get costumes.”

“Of course,” Mary Margaret promised as Emma slid into the bug. “We will work on our costumes today.”

“Mom is making my costume,” Henry said proudly as he buckled himself in.

Emma paused, feeling snake like jealousy coil in her stomach. “Really?” She asked disbelievingly as she put the key in the ignition.

“Yep, she has a pattern and fabric and everything, and no magic allowed.”

"I- that's great Henry," Emma said with false enthusiasm.  Was Regina campaigning for mother of the year or what?  Driving her kid to Freeport to pick up party supplies was nothing compared to making him a hand sewn Halloween costume.  How the fuck was she supposed to compete?

“Yeah, it’s really cool. It’s going to have a cape and everything. But that is all I can tell you, it’s a surprise.”

Emma wondered, not what the costume was, but how Regina was going to pull off making a costume by hand. Regina was no domestic goddess.

“We have to find you a costume today too,” Henry chattered on.

Emma hated the thought of disappointing him, when this Halloween party was so obviously important, but wearing a costume, going to a party, just made her stomach clench. She’d never been good at stuff like that – and she had to work anyway. “Henry, I don’t know about wearing a costume. It’s kind of not my thing. Not even when I was a kid.”

“You said you would stop by after work,” Henry reminded her patiently, “You’ll need a costume even if you come late. Everyone is dressing up, even mom.”

“Regina? She’s wearing a costume?” Emma asked incredulously. “I can’t even guess what she is going to go as.”

Actually, Emma could think of some costumes that would be fitting for the evil queen, but she had promised herself not to make snarky remarks about Regina in front of Henry from now on.

Henry shrugged, “Don’t know. She said it is a surprise. She is making hers too.”

No way was Regina not using magic, Emma thought bitterly.  It would be just like her to promise to lay off the stuff, but use it in secret in order to show off what a good mother she was.

“What do you think Killian will dress up as?” Henry asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“Uh – what?” Emma stuttered. A sudden vision of Killian dressed up like James Bond forced itself into her brain, and she felt a blush creep up her neck. What the hell is wrong with me, she thought, forcing her eyes to focus on the road, the trees - that giant pot hole, anything else. The image crept its way back into her brain. She did have a thing for guys in tuxes and uniform – _ick, what the hell!_

“Well he said he would try to come, and I gave him all kinds of ideas for a costume,” Henry continued. “But I don’t think he took me too seriously.”

 “When did this happen?”

“The other day at Granny’s, he eats dinner there by himself at five thirty every night.”

“He does?” Emma stammered, perplexed that Henry seemed to be stalking Captain Hook. She ignored the annoying thought that wriggled into her brain that Killian seemed to be an outcast even after all that he had done to help her. Guilty feelings threatened until she reminded herself that he was a pirate, not the Johnny Depp kind, but the kind that was really dangerous and couldn’t be trusted.

“Yeah, I really want him to come so that he can meet everyone,” Henry said interrupting her thoughts. “A lot of people don’t like him or think he’s a bad guy because what he did to Belle-”

“And Archie-” Emma interrupted.

“Oh yeah, forgot about Archie,” Henry mused. “But I know he is really one of the good guys. That’s not in the book, but sometimes the book is wrong,” he said fixing her with one of those emphatic looks that she just knows was passed down from her gene pool.

“You like him don’t you?” Emma said softly, taking her eyes from the road.

“Yeah, he’s pretty cool,” Henry replied. Without her consent an image of Killian, battered, and limping, Henry at his side came to mind. She remembered the wind lifting her son’s hair off his forehead in that moment before she and Henry both broke into a run. She remembered Killian, keeping promises and then her inexplicably bad decision to kiss him.

“Well I don’t want you to get your hopes up,” she cautioned more sharply than she had intended. It was endearing that her son often looked for the best in people, but she wasn’t sure that he should put his trust in Captain Hook. “He’s not the most sociable guy,” she offered softly, “and he probably won’t feel comfortable in a room full of costumed people who kind of hate him.”

Henry shrugged, “we’ll see”.

Emma glanced over, wondering what _that_ meant.

She didn’t ask though and soon a gigantic blow up pumpkin greeted them from the highway, squashing any more discussions about Killian Jones. Henry grinned excitedly and bounced in his seat. Emma couldn’t help but smile back. For awhile, she thought that what had happened in Neverland would scar him for life, but every day he seemed a little better, a little happier. If this Halloween thing was how he was coping, then she could roll with it.

There were a lot of people inside the store, which was a little nerve wracking, but Emma grabbed a basket, pulled the folded up piece of paper from her back pocket and handed it to Henry. “Ok kid, what’s first on that list of yours?”


	4. Chapter 4

Bags containing streamers, candy, cobwebs and tiny plastic spiders covered most of the backseat. A life-size plastic skeleton was propped up in the seat behind hers. Henry had insisted on bringing it home with them.

“This is so great,” Henry said tearing the cellophane off several cd’s of spooky songs and sounds they had picked up. “I love Halloween already.”

“I’m glad kid,” Emma said smiling at him fondly.

Henry paused, another one of those contemplative looks changing his face, making him look a lot older than Emma was ready for. “So you never really got to celebrate Halloween when you were a kid?”

Emma looked back at the road, not sure when she had mentioned that particularly depressing part of her childhood to him. “Nope,” she finally admitted. “I moved around to a lot of foster homes so most of the time I missed out on stuff like that.”

“Is that why you don’t want to dress up?”

Emma wasn’t sure how to answer, her kid was so damn perceptive; it was more than a little unsettling. She bit her lip. Almost out of nowhere a figure appeared up ahead along the side of the road, his long jacket sending orange and gold leaves fluttering under his boot heels.

“Hey, it’s Killian!” Henry exclaimed, already rolling down his window. “Pull over.”

The sight was so strange Emma found herself doing just that. It reminded her of that Disney movie, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Killian was more headless horseman than mild mannered Ichabod Crane, but what the hell? She was curious what he was doing out on the road anyway.

“Need a ride?” Henry called out.

Killian eyed her car skeptically, disdainfully as if there were something wrong with the bug. He hoisted the bag he was carrying over his shoulder. “Just out for some provisions and a nice walk, but thank you for the offer. Wouldn’t want to hold you up from wherever you are headed.”

“It’s no trouble,” Henry smiled. “We can give you a ride back to the ship,” he offered hopefully.

Killian hesitated, that disdainful look still on his face.

“Get in,” Emma shouted over Henry, starting to get annoyed at the way he was eyeing her car. He was such a condescending prick, even when he wasn’t saying anything.

“Am I under arrest?” he asked, irritated.

“No,” she snapped, imitating his tone. “Does this look like the cruiser? Now get in.”

“I do not ride in automobiles,” Killian replied darkly, stepping back, “they can be quite dangerous.”

Emma remembered the night of Greg Mendel’s unfortunate arrival. She suspected Henry was thinking about that jerk wad too. His face did that scrunched up thing whenever anything Neverland related slipped into the conversation.

Killian saw it too, his face softened, for just an instant, but Emma caught it and it did strange things to her heart that she instantly and forcefully pushed down.

“Just get in,” she ordered exasperatedly, this whole thing was turning into a giant pain in the ass.

Killian gave her one of those lopsided looks, all scrutiny and suspicion.

She stared back, daring him to turn Henry down. She somehow knew he wouldn’t.

“So-”Henry faltered, unsure, “are you getting in?”

“It looks like it might rain, so I suppose a faster way back to my ship is the sensible choice,” Killian lied smoothly.

Henry pushed his door open, and pulled the seat back to allow Killian to get into the back seat.

Killian paused, an eyebrow raised, “and who might that unlucky soul be?” he asked reaching out with his hook and poking at the plastic skeleton.

“It’s not real.” Henry laughed. “He’s just plastic,” Henry said ushering Killian into the back of Emma’s car.

Emma knew the way to the docks, thankfully they weren’t far. She hoped that this wasn’t going to turn out to be a gigantic mistake. She pulled back onto the road, and couldn’t help looking into the rearview mirror every couple of minutes. Killian continued to eye the prop skeleton contemplatively.

“He’s for the party,” Henry explained turning around in his seat.

Killian carefully considered his seat mate for a moment, and Emma had to physically choke back a bark of nervous laughter.

“You know, for decoration,” Henry continued.

Killian contemplated the idea for a moment. “I might know where you can get a real one,” he said offhandedly.

The smile dropped off her lips. “No. Nope, you are not – wait why would you have a real skeleton?”

“I didn’t say I had one,” Killian replied haughtily, catching her eye in the rearview mirror, “I said I might know where you can get one.”

“No, no dead bodies,” she said glaring at him in the rearview mirror.

“Well, a real skeleton, not a dead body, that would just be foul, would add a little more authenticity to your party. Give the thrill seeking citizens a little scare. But if you are going to be skittish about it, then never mind.”

“We don’t need anything scarier in Storybrooke,” Emma growled at him.

Killian leaned forward, between her and Henry’s seats, his breath against her ear and neck, “Isn’t that the point of Halloween, princess - a dash of fear, a little darkness, and the thrill of the unknown?”

Emma swatted at him, and Killian settled back in his seat with a chuckle, poking at the plastic skeleton again. The docks came into view and Emma quietly let out a relieved sigh. Things were just always so awkward and wrong when Killian was involved.

“I think I agree with Emma on the no real dead things,” Henry finally interjected breaking the tension, “But great idea.”

Emma could see the mast of the Jolly Roger blowing in the wind. She hadn’t seen the ship since they had returned to Storybrooke. Guilt washed over her again, and she realized she had never actually thanked him for getting them all home.

“Hey she’s not cloaked anymore,” Henry exclaimed.

“No, Cora, no cloaking spell,” Killian responded airily. “And Regina still hasn’t forgiven me-”

Emma shook her head, cutting him off. There had been a minor incident on the way back from Neverland with Regina. But that was drama Henry did not need to know about.

Thankfully Henry was ignoring them, more interested in exploring Hook’s ship. “Can I go up into the crows nest? I want to see if I can see Emma’s house from here.”

“Hmm, I wonder if you can,” Killian mused teasingly. He gave Henry the go ahead and smiled charmingly at Emma.

She rolled her eyes and elbowed him out of the way as she watched Henry clamor up the rickety ladder. “Henry, be careful,” she shouted up grimacing. She watched tensely as Henry climbed into the bucket high above the ship. He knelt down, and a second later popped up with a spyglass. Emma’s stomach was in knots. What if he fell? What if the wobbly contraption spontaneously split apart and dropped her kid into the ocean?

Killian squinted at her.

“What?” she griped distractedly.

“You look as if you are about to jump out of your own skin. He’ll be fine. Let the boy have a little fun.”

Emma paused disbelievingly, “Are you giving me parenting advice? You? That’s just, so messed up.”

“I’ll admit, I have no experience child rearing, but I was a boy once,” Killian countered.

“Without a mother to protect you from breaking your neck,” Emma tersely reminded him.

“And I turned out fine.”

“You call becoming a pirate turning out fine?” Emma scoffed.

“I could have become something much worse,” Killian shot back, raising a brow for emphasis.

Emma looked back up to see Henry having the time of his life. Henry was in love with the ship, and was so sure that Hook was a good man; she was worried that he’d have his heart broken in a million pieces. She needed to set things straight with Hook before that happened. “We have a situation, we need to talk about,” she ground out, knowing that any conversation with him was going to be exhausting.

“We do?” he asked intrigued, bumping her shoulder with his. “Do you want to kiss me again? I’ll admit you took me by surprise last time, but if you want-”

She looked at him incredulously. Why the hell did he have to bring that up? What an asshole. “No, I mean Henry’s fascination with you,” she interrupted brusquely, ignoring his comment about that stupid kiss that she totally regretted and would never think about again.

“What do you mean?” he questioned clearly confused.

“Haven’t you noticed?” Emma asked drily. “He thinks you are some kind of super hero. He really looks up to you.”

“I’d imagine that’s a predicament for you,” Killian replied stiffly. “I am not exactly role model material.”

“Exactly,” she said stated, refusing to look at him, her eyes on her son. “But, he is sensitive, and he wants to see the good in you. So if you are going to leave, or try killing someone he loves, or anyone really, can you give me the heads up so I can prepare him for the disappointment?”

“So tell you in advance if I am going to do something that might cause you to throw me into a cell or tie me up?” Killian sneered. “That sounds like a genius plan, but I think I’ll pass.

“I am serious Hook. You break my kids’ heart, and I will break your face. Got it?”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes far away. She blew the hair out of her face, her heart racing for no reason. She bit her lip, why did conversations with him always leave her feeling like she’d just lost a duel or something?

“Got it, love,” he purred, leaning in close with a small predatory smile that sent shivers up her spine.


	5. Chapter 5

Having Snow White for a mother had some advantages Emma thought, pulling a casserole out of the fridge. The gene bestowing culinary prowess had absolutely not been passed down to her. If she was being honest, mac and cheese was about as gourmet as it got. But now that she was the sole caregiver for Henry two days a week, she was going to have to step it up. Tonight, however, she’d settle for the casserole that Mary Margaret had dropped off earlier that morning.

“Can I still explore the attic?” Henry asked eyeing the pumpkin pie she had picked up at Granny’s for their dessert.

“Sure,” she shrugged, but there is just a bunch of old junk up there left by whoever lived here before.”

“Awesome! It will be like a treasure hunt, maybe I’ll find something cool we can use for the Halloween party,” Henry replied excitedly.

“If you say so,” Emma shrugged, unsure why Henry was so interested in whatever odds and ends had been left behind by the previous tenant. She had taken a cursory look when she first moved in and hadn’t found anything of worth.

“You said I could take anything I want right?”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly suspicious. “I did. But I think you are going to be disappointed, there really isn’t anything up there.” She suddenly had the unsettling feeling that her son was up to something. Then the oven beeped, and she was back to fretting about casserole and vegetables and being a better mom while Henry pulled down the ladder and scampered up into the attic.

The next morning Emma dropped Henry off at school for Regina, before heading to the station. The sun was out, but there was a crisp chill in the air. The smell of coffee was a welcome aroma as she dropped into her chair.

“How’s the kid?” David asked.

“Great,” she mumbled going through her email.

“Tonight should be really fun-” David started, sitting on the edge of her desk, looking at her pointedly.

“What?” she griped warily. She remembered that she _might_ have acted grumpy about the party the last time he had brought it up. She could tell he thought she was going to try to worm her way out of going. “I said I was coming,” she huffed, going back to her email. For some reason, deleting spam email one by one gave her great satisfaction.

“Nothing’s going on around here. You can close up early,” David reasoned.

Emma could feel her father’s eyes on her but did not look up from her email deleting frenzy. “I take this job very seriously. I am working a double, but I will stop by after,” she said with a tight smile.

“Ok, I’ll stop bugging you,” he sighed rolling his eyes. “I just think it is good for you to get out and be with people. When you are not here you are holed up at your new place. We hardly ever see you anymore.”

She squinted at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he replied with a shrug. “Your mother and I just worry.”

“I know I am going to regret this,” Emma said with a grimace, “but why are you worrying?”

“Um, cause we are you parents,” David chuckled.

“Ok, I know I am new at this, but you want me to do what exactly.”

“We don’t want you to do anything,” David reassured backing away. “What is wrong with hanging out, meeting people, having fun? You don’t do it nearly enough.”

Emma eyed her father apprehensively. “I like alone time,” Emma grumbled getting up and heading towards the coffee maker. “I’m kind of used to it, and it’s a hard habit to break,” she grumbled as she poured her coffee into a chipped mug.

“Fine, but all that time alone, has a way of cutting a person off from the rest of the world. Just something to think about,” he chided in that eerie dad voice he had started to use ever since they got back from Neverland.

Emma rubbed her temples. “I feel a headache coming on.”

David sighed heavily.

“Isn’t there anybody we need to arrest today?” She grumped unhappily.

The truth was she didn’t know why she was so bah humbug about the Halloween party. She didn’t have anything personal against Halloween. It just sometimes felt like everyone’s eyes were on her, waiting for her to do something, or be something, or save something. It was too much. So was hanging out with her parents, who had a way of making her feel woefully inadequate. Whether it was her inability to make an edible meal or find her one true love, she kept being reminded how defective she was. How she wasn’t destined for the kind of life parents had. That behind this shiny badge, she wasn’t anything special, just a counterfeit princess with no hope of ever living up to the fairytale.

Things were quiet the rest of the day which gave her plenty of time to mull over her gloomy thoughts. They hadn’t even gotten one call. Emma was getting tired of playing solitaire on her computer. Although she enjoyed getting to know David, she was relieved when he finally clocked out at 3pm.

As he left, he reminded her again that the party started at six. She gave him a thumbs up, and let out a big breath as he closed the door behind him. She really did have a headache. She put her head down on the desk and tried to force it away. After a few moments, she got up, crossed the room and popped open the file cabinet, rifling through some of Graham’s files. The afternoon sun poured in highlighting particles of dust as they swirled through the air. She smiled softly at Graham’s messy writing. She hadn’t had enough time to _love_ Graham, but if true love and all that nonsense was real, then he wouldn’t have died the way he did.

Why believe in fairytale endings, when even in sheltered Storybrooke real life’s heartbreak was inexorable? This is something she kept daring herself to say to her parents, although she never could find the guts to go through with it.

Emma read through several of the files, realizing just how much scandalous shit had gone down in this town even before she got there. After awhile, she sat back down feeling glum. Shadows danced along the wall as she stared at her computer screen. She played a couple more rounds of solitaire, and then looked at the clock. Henry’s Halloween party had probably already gotten started. She poked a finger in the blinds and saw a couple of kids and their parents making their way down the street in costume, headed towards the middle school.

Emma checked her email for the umpteenth time, and then read a couple of articles on CNN. It was completely dark the next time she peeked out the window. Emma felt guilt wash over her again; she was a selfish jerk not to go to this party that meant so much to her kid. The rest of the whole town was probably there.

With a sigh of acquiescence Emma pulled a plastic bag out of her bottom drawer and carefully locked the bathroom door behind her. During the shopping excursion in Freeport she had thrown a pair of cat ears and a clip-on tail into the basket to appease Henry. He had groused that it wasn’t a very original costume, and she had explained it was the best she was gonna do.

Although it felt silly, Emma used the headband to push her hair back, deciding that if her minimal effort at dressing up would make Henry happy, then her lame costume was worth it, even if she’d never make mother of the year. She clipped the tail to a loop in her black jeans and pulled on her black leather jacket. She had worn a black t-shirt and her black boots to work, completing the black cat look.

She pulled out the black eyeliner that she had thrown in her purse earlier that morning and carefully applied a black nose and some whiskers. She finished the look off with some red lipstick that she had once bought on a whim but rarely ever wore.

The effect wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible either. She flipped off the lights and locked the door behind her, setting off for the school feeling like an awkward teenager going stag to a school dance.


	6. Chapter 6

Emma stood with her hand on the door to the middle school gymnasium.  She could hear the vaguely familiar chorus to the Monster Mash playing. Her stomach lurched, and her palms were sweaty.  Now she knew what she had been missing out on in grade school, she thought sarcastically. It was dumb, she was an adult, but walking into a party alone, wearing a half hearted and ridiculous costume was almost worse than fighting an ogre or a dragon. It had nothing to do with whether a certain pirate would be there  or not.

 _Uggh_ , she muttered out loud, pushing the door open.

Mary Margaret, Granny, Ruby and the others had done a great job.  The gym was all done up with festive streamers and black crepe paper spiders.  The lights were low and spooky, and jack o lanterns with their candlelit smiles sent flickering shadows around the room.  Emma noticed that most of the adults were lingering around a table where a large punch bowl sat.

Emma quickly wondered if there were a precedence of having alcohol on the premises of the middle school. She’d have to look that up next time she was at the station, but as long as everyone could behave, she wouldn’t worry about it tonight.

“Your boyfriend is here,” a voice whispered behind her, making her jump. She reached for the gun that was usually holstered on her hip, before realizing that she had left it at the station.

“Jesus, Ruby, sneaking up on people on Halloween is a really bad idea.”

“You’re awfully jumpy,” Ruby smirked, lifting a red cup to her lips.

Emma eyed her friends costume amusedly.  “Librarian? Or Secretary?” she asked.  Ruby’s hair was pulled up into a serious up do, and she was wearing a blazer and a pencil skirt, a pair of cat’s eye glasses completed the look. “I was going for more of a Lois Lane vibe,” Ruby sighed holding up a reporters pad.

Emma smiled, “You look great. I am just really bad at this Halloween stuff.”

“Yeah,” Ruby agreed sarcastically tweaking one of Emma’s cat ears.  “You should have sexed it up a little bit, your boy toy, is super freaking hot in that costume.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk?” Emma stuttered self consciously.  She forced the Captain Hook as James Bond image out of her head.

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, everyone knows that the infamous Captain Hook has a crush on the town sheriff.”

Emma felt her face going hot, and suddenly she knew, without seeing him, that he was somewhere in the room watching this little exchange.  It made her feel angry and self-conscious and weird.

Ruby laughed and pushed the red cup into Emma’s hands. “Down this and then go talk to him. He’s been lingering in the shadows all night waiting for you to get here.”

Ruby walked away slightly off-kilter. Dr.Whale caught her arm and Emma watched as Ruby leaned into him.  _Eww_ , Emma disgustedly thought to herself - what is it with everyone hooking up in this town?

Emma finished Ruby’s drink in one long gulp.  It was some kind of spiked apple cider.  A little too sweet for her taste and she didn’t even want to contemplate where the rum had come from.

The smart thing to do was to avoid Hook. She would find Henry instead. She would show her kid how much she cared about the things that were important to him. Then she’d make an excuse and a fast exit and get the hell out of here.

She set the cup down and searched the crowd for Henry. Emma noticed that no one was dressed up like a witch, or a vampire, or a werewolf. In Storybrooke,  those things were all too real. Instead, it looked as though people had raided the hospital. There were half a dozen nurses and doctors. Leroy had fashioned a fake white beard out of some cotton and was wearing a red hat with a bell at the end.  He was the strangest Santa Claus she had ever seen.

Her eyes landed on Mary Margaret and David who were leaning into each other in that sloppy love sick kind of way.  For his costume, David was wearing a jacket that said F.B.I on it, which was almost as half-assed as Emma’s. Mary Margaret was dressed as a bunny, and Emma couldn’t help being glad that it was the Easter kind and not the playboy version.  As Emma watched David whispered something into Mary Margaret’s ear, which made her laugh. She kissed his neck, and he squeezed her arm, and pulled her close.

 _Jesus_ , Emma muttered aloud, annoyed. _How the fuck was anyone supposed to live up to that?_ Even if she were in a relationship it would neve be like that, all true love and happy endings. It must be some cosmic practical joke that she had come from those two.

Emma moved away from the punch bowl of PDA and continued to scan the room for Henry, but it was the intense blue eyes under a cap and goggles that caught her attention. Hook, she realized distractedly.  He looked as though he had stepped right out of the 1940’s. The scarf and brown bomber jacket completing his fighter pilot ensemble. On him, the look was kind of perfect.

Her skin suddenly felt flushed, and her stomach was doing that elevator drop thing.  This is stupid, so stupid, she told herself.

He moved through the crowd towards her, his gaze dark and mysterious.  Emma felt rooted to the spot, transfixed by the way shadows danced around him and the unwavering way he was watching her.

She shook her head. _Hell no_ , Emma chastised herself disgustedly. She was not interested in having anything to do with Hook. No matter how he looked in that costume. It was a super bad idea.

“Have you seen Henry?” she asked abruptly before he could do or say anything, setting a firm look on her face.  He did not need to know that Ruby was correct that he was super freaking hot dressed liked that.

He ignored her, staring at the black whiskers she had drawn on and then at the pointy cat ear headband in her hair.

“Cats are mangy and bad luck,” he murmured gruffly as he eyed her up and down.

“It’s great to see you too,” she snapped coldly, irritated that his cantankerous remark kind of hurt. She pushed passed him, annoyed that she was wearing stupid cat ears and that he looked like that.  At least he hadn’t seen the tail.


	7. Chapter 7

Henry hugged her fast and hard. “You look awesome,” he said.

“Thanks kid,” she muttered, finally feeling a little less out of place and awkward.

“Sherlock Holmes,” she stated, admiring his cape and matching hat. “Very cool costume.”

“You should see my mom,” Henry said excitedly.

“Oh yes, Regina made quiet an entrance earlier,” Mary Margaret informed her, pursing her lips trying not to laugh.

Emma gave her a questioning look, but Mary Margaret just shook her head. Suddenly Emma couldn’t wait to see Regina.

“I am glad you made it,” Mary Margaret whispered handing Emma another red cup. David came up behind Mary Margaret and obviously grabbed her ass by the way she jumped and giggled.

“Oh god,” Emma groused. “Don’t make me arrest either of you for public intoxication or indecent exposure or something.”

Mary Margaret blushed, and David cleared his throat.

“Did you see Killian?” Henry asked interrupting the embarrassing moment.

“Yeah Emma, did you see Killian?” Mary Margaret asked innocently. “Isn’t his costume great?” She added mischievously.

“Yeah sure, I guess,” Emma lied flippantly.

“You know, he doesn’t have a lot of friends here, maybe you could introduce him around.” Mary Margaret offered. “He seems kind of lonely.”

David groaned, and Mary Margaret swiftly elbowed him in the ribs.

“What the hell is in that punch bowl?” Emma asked scowling. “You are all acting crazy tonight.”

Before her parents could gross her out any more Emma finally caught sight of Regina, in the sluttiest Cleopatra costume ever.

“Oh my god,” she choked.

“Right?” Mary Margaret scoffed trying to not to laugh.

Emma watched in trepidation as Regina sauntered towards her. “Well, Mrs. Swan, we didn’t think you’d make it,” Regina slurred, the evil queen uncharacteristically tipsy.

“Holy cleavage, Regina,” Emma replied scornfully. “You couldn’t tone it down a little? This is a kids party.”

Regina paused, her glare, turning into a wickedly ruthless grin. “Does the Captain know what a prude you are?” Regina asked imperiously.

Emma gaped at her, that stupid blush creeping up her neck. She glared at Regina.

“I guess that is probably part of the allure though,” Regina mused, “he was always one to enjoy the thrill of a good chase.”

“Please give me a good reason to arrest you,” Emma threatened through gritted teeth.

“Wouldn’t you just love that,” Regina sneered through a fake smile. “But I think you are going to be using those cuffs on someone else tonight,” Regina teased raising her chin and looking over Emma’s shoulder.

Emma was still boiling over Regina and her stupid innuendos that at first she didn’t hear the commotion behind her.

“Belle honey, I think it would be best if you put the dagger down,” Emma heard Mary Margaret implore.

Great, Emma sighed in frustration. She turned from Regina and pushed her way towards Mary Margaret who was trying to reason with Belle. David stood by, ready to tackle Belle, or maybe Hook, depending on who moved first. Belle, who was wearing some kind of armor, had Captain Hook pushed up against a wall, a dagger precariously pinching his throat.

“A little help here Swan,” he grunted, catching her eye. The cap and goggles he had been wearing had fallen on to the ground, and his tousled hair fell into his eyes.

“Belle, put the blade down.” Emma said calmly, eyeing Belle’s grip on the dagger.

“He shouldn’t be here,” Belle seethed.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” Emma asked softly, taking a chance and wrapping her fingers around Belle’s hand.

“What does that matter?” Belle spat out, pink dots rising on her cheeks, eyes blazing. “He’s a monster. He’s the reason Rumple is not here. I don’t believe that he just left in the middle of the night. This pirate did something to him, and he doesn’t belong here.”

“She’s right,” a voice from the middle of the crowd chimed in.

Emma twisted around. The usual mild mannered Archie stepped up behind Belle. He was dressed up as Charlie Chaplin, which was a little unsettling, but Emma was glad he looked less drunk than Belle. However, anger was etched into his usually cheery features.

“This man is a danger. He shouldn’t be here around the children, or the rest of us who don’t make it our business to kidnap and harm the people in this community.”

“Ok, ok, maybe your right.” Emma agreed slowly, cautiously moving Belle’s hand back.

“Thanks for the support lass,” Killian quipped disgustedly. Belle gripped the handle harder and pushed the dagger deeper into the skin of his neck. “Shut up,” she ground out.

“But, he was invited,” Emma continued gently. “He even put on a costume. I don’t think he’s here to hurt anyone.”

“That doesn’t change things,” Belle huffed. “He attacked me, more than once! I don’t feel safe with him here.”

“Then he’ll leave,” Emma reasoned, promising Belle with a curt nod.

“Why the bloody hell should I have to leave?” Hook blurted out irritated.

“Shut up!” Emma snapped exasperatedly. She turned back to Belle. “I’ll make sure he leaves the premises and doesn’t come back. Just give me the dagger, and go back to the party.”

Belle hesitated. Emma could see the fiery expression on her face fade just a bit. Emma reached for the dagger, Belle loosened her grip and Emma pulled it from her, deftly stowing it in her boot.

Before Emma could stop her, Belle charged forward and had an elbow at Hook’s throat. “Next time you come near me, I’ll kill you,” she threatened, a calm deadliness distorting her pretty features.

“Ok, that’s enough,” Emma cautioned, prying Belle off Hook.

Before he could say or do anything else to piss Belle off, Emma grabbed him by the collar and hauled him out of the gymnasium and into the cool autumn air.

“What is it with women in this bloody town,” he muttered.

Emma just shook her head. “Come on, let’s get you home.”


	8. Chapter 8

She looked at him sideways. His long legs are drawn up at an uncomfortable angle in the front seat of the bug, a disgruntled frown marring his features.

“Where did you get those clothes anyway?” She asked curiously.

He cocked a brow and tilted his head as if she should know - and then of course she suddenly did.

“Henry,” she sighed knowingly.

“He said he found this,” he said holding up the cap and goggles “in your attic, and said that you thought I should have it for the party.”

Emma barked out a disgusted laugh. “What?”

Hook eyed her curiously and then nodded curtly. “I take it you knew nothing about it.”

“I knew he was up to something,” Emma admitted, “but I had no idea it had anything to do with you.”

“Right, of course,” he muttered. “This was a bloody mistake. I should have never left my ship.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.  A couple of tense awkward moments passed. 

“Maybe if you tried fitting in,” she chastised, “you wouldn’t have a dagger to your throat every time you showed your face.” 

“Why would I want to fit into this blasted high and mighty town,” he mumbled under his breath disgustedly.

Emma turned to face him, feeling – what? She was so unsure when it came to him. “Why did you come to the party then?” She asked harshly as she pulled into a spot near the docks. She could see the Jolly Roger swaying in the light breeze. “I mean why stay here at all if it makes you so goddamn unhappy?”

He glared at her for a moment before pushing the door open and slamming it soundly behind him.

Something about the way he slammed the door and ignored her question burned her, made her feel like punching him in the gut or pushing him into the freezing water - or maybe both. 

She pushed her own door open and shivered.  It got so fucking cold in Maine! Her hair blew in her face as she moved to catch up with him.“Why do you think I am still here?” he taunted harshly, turning before she reached him. 

“Why do you think I’d stay in this bloody goody- two-shoes town that treats me like a leper?”

“I don’t know!” she shouted in frustration wrapping her arms around her chest. “You like pushing peoples buttons, annoying people-” she said knowing her answer was lame, and mean, and not the truth. There was subtext to his words. Subtext that all of sudden made her stomach lurch.

He stepped towards her, the wind in his hair, his expression grim and resigned. He was nearly toe to toe with her. She could feel his breath on her face, and then suddenly wondered how ridiculous she looked with the cat ears still perched on her head and smudged eyeliner whiskers.

His stare was indecipherable and unrelenting, and then she forgot about the stupid cat ears, instead, wondering if he was going to reach out and grab her, or kiss her or –

“In my experience, when something good comes your way you reach out and grab it,” he finally said lowly, decision made. He reached for her forearm, pulling her into his chest, changing the subject, but not.

“I guess that must be a pirate thing,” she heard herself saying in that steely voice reserved for when she was most scared and trying not to show it.

He sighed, seeing through her. She knew he could sense her fear. _What the hell am I so afraid of,_ she thought?

“It’s a life thing, darling,” he explained softening. “You don’t live as long as I have without realizing that good things don’t come around half as often as bad ones.”

“Good things,” she stammered breathily, catching his drift.

“And when you have a chance at something good, after so much  bad, you just want to hold it, no matter how much it might burn,” he continued, daring her to move away, to break free of his grasp.

A full minute passed. Emma forgot to breathe; the wind whipped her hair into her eyes.

Ok fine, so he had a crush on her.  That didn’t mean that any of this was real or true. He was Captain Hook for gods’ sake.

She pulled her arm out of his grasp and stepped back. “Just so you know that isn’t going to work on me.”

“What are you talking about lass?” he sighed wearily.

“I am not some pirate wench or one night stand,” she snapped.

“Swan! Did you ever stop to consider that I already know that?” he shot back, hurt washing over his face, although he quickly hid it in an angry scowl. “Damn it all to hell, I know I am going to regret saying this,” he mused running a hand through his hair.

Emma stared back at him tensely, hoping he wouldn’t say it, wouldn’t say that thing she felt emanating from him, and then almost simultaneously, hoping he would say it. How wrong was that? _Jesus, get it together_ , she shakily thought.

“You are the one good thing in the last 300 years that has crossed my path,” he said slowly. “You are like a flame in the dark. I can’t stop being drawn to your warmth, your goodness, your light. And for the first time in a long time I feel something other than terrible revenge and bloodlust and desperation and hurt.”

“Hook, I don’t know what’s happening here,” she faltered, hating the panicky way her voice sounded.

"But you do,” he implored reaching for her again.  He grasped her arm, sliding his fingers down until her hand was in his, weaving his fingers through hers until together they were a tightly knotted fist. He brought their entwined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

She froze, her heart stuttering in her chest, the cold air nipping at her nose.  His eyes were too blue, too sincere – it had to be a trap, a lie, a scheme.

“Is this because of that one stupid kiss?” she asked tightly, pulling away. “Because, it didn’t mean anything, and as I recall you didn’t even kiss me back, so-”

“You didn’t give me much of a chance,” he argued. “And then you ran away, and didn’t speak to me until we got back here.”

She shook her head, “what game are you playing?”

“No games love. All I am asking for a little faith,” he said stepping closer. “I know I say the wrong things, and make just as many regrettable choices. But believe in me, believe in what we could have,” he pleaded.

Emma chewed on her lip, and surprisingly felt tears building up. She took a deep breath, swallowed them down. Was it true?  Did Hook- _Killian_ , really have feelings for her? And what did that mean?  Why did it make her feel like this moment was etching itself into her skin and heart?

“I am not good at this,” she finally confessed, looking at her feet.  “It always ends with someone betraying or leaving or dying.”

“Not me, I’m still here,” he reminded her, carefully watching her face. 

“And what if I’m not ready?” Emma asked, meeting his gaze defiantly.  Giving him an out, a way to change course, leave before things became something more. “My life here is complicated.”

“I’ll wait,” he growled. 

“It could be a long time,” Emma ventured, her heart thumping in her ears. 

“Where else am I going to go?” he asked honestly, warily. “When my heart is here?”

She watched the truth of his words reflected in his eyes.  Emotions she didn’t have time to comprehend or dissect washed over her, knocked her down, and took her breath.  There were things to say, warnings or threats, or maybe even promises, but she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think over the sound of her fearful heart. She backed away. “I have to-”

“Go,” he finished for her. “I know,” he said softly, resignation dulling out the fire in his gaze.

Emma turned, her boots loud on the pavement as she strode towards her car. She felt tears springing up in her eyes now that her back was to him. She wrenched open the door to the bug, and then stopped.

What if it could be true? What if this thing that was furiously beating its wings against her ribcage and stealing her breath was a real thing? A good thing?  

She turned. He was still, watching her.  His eyes met hers and the world collapsed into a heartbeat, a single flashing, throbbing rhythm under her skin.

“You can come by my place tomorrow, seven o’clock,” she finally offered harshly, the words scratching at her throat.  

 


End file.
